Venus Winding
by Stranger H
Summary: Draco and Lucius sneak off during a banquet for some quality time together. Contains incest and slash. And some fetish play. One shot.


_**Author's Note: This is slash. It contains incest. Do not read if it's not your ship. I don't want to hear about how sick and disturbing I am. I am not forcing your eyeballs open and making you read this. **_

_**The characters are not mine. They belong to J.K. Rowling. The situations, however, are all me.**_

Venus Winding

"Draco!" my father yelled. I rolled over in my bed and opened my eyes to squint at the clock on the bedside table. It was 12:30. Perfect. Father hated it when I overslept. I closed my eyes again as I heard footsteps approaching my bedroom. I heard the door swing open. "Draco!" his voice was much louder now. It sounded better as an echo.

"Nnh?" I moaned, covering my eyes with the tuck of my elbow.

"Get out of bed."

"What for? It's still holiday," I replied. My tongue felt dry and too large for my mouth. I slurred my words.

"Get up Draco. I won't tell you again." I opened one eye and peered through the angle my elbow made. He looked furious. I could tell it wasn't just talk by the way his face was blotched with pink. I wanted to kiss those blushing patches.

"What's so important?" I asked, rolling over to my side. I knew this would test him.

"Don't ask questions. Do as I say." His voice was close to me. I felt a hint of breath on my ear. My spine tingled as his presence seemed to caress me all over. I could feel his eyes boaring into the back of my skull.

"I'm too tired," I said, sighing. "I'll get up in a few more hours." The bed creaked and I slid toward him as his weight pressed on the mattress.

"Why won't you listen to me?" he whispered, breathing on my neck. I rolled over, facing him, and fit myself against his large, strong body. I let my fingers trace the porcelain buttons on his silken shirt. I undid two of them toward the top and slid my hand across his bare skin. I felt the hair on his chest prickle. My hands must have been cold.

"If I listened, we wouldn't be close," I said, nuzzling his neck. His hair was perfumed and seemed intoxicating. I could have gotten drunk off his scent of musk and powder if he would only let my stay this near to him for a few hours.

"You approve of this?" he said. I felt his hand cup the back of my head. He massaged my scalp with his long fingers.

"Of course," I replied. His fingers stopped their soothing rhythm. He pulled away from me.

"You're awake now. Get dressed," he said as he buttoned up his shirt.

"You're a tease," I pouted.

He laughed. "It's your own fault." He left the room for me to dress.

* * *

That night, we had a banquet to host. It was actually my mother's doing. I, personally, hated the events. I despised the people who came. They never change. The conversation rarely varies and I am forced into frills and cuffs for a few very unpleasant hours.

I met my father in the parlour. Mother was in the main hall greeting the snobbish guests.

"You look like a little prince," Father commented, placing his hand on the small of my back. He knew I loved that stance. I looked at him sideways, savouring his formal appearance. He filled out his dress robes nicely. I envied him for his body. My own had yet to flesh out to match my height. I was nearly able to look my father in the eyes when I was next to him, but I may as well have been a waif as for my frame. My bones hardly had any tissue to soften them. My hips were almost girlish- a fact that I was both well aware of, and detested completely.

"Oh, Master Malfoy! It's so good to see you again!" The line of guests entered our parlour with high- pitched compliments and praises. The sea of fake smiles nearly drowned me and I was sick to my stomach from the over- perfumed ladies who insisted on greeting me.

"Draco, you've really sprouted haven't you?" one of the strained- expression donning women said.

I put on a hint of a smile. "Yes, it would seem so." I glanced at my father again and we connected eyes for a second. I could have sworn there was a twinkle there. I knew that look of his.

"You're nearly done with Hogwarts aren't you? Won't that be exciting when you finish it? Do you know what you're planning on doing?" she persisted. This woman was insatiable.

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it yet," I told her. "I've been more focused on school work."

I saw my father pass behind me with a group of others. As he went by, he leaned in and whispered, "Liar liar."

The woman was still speaking but I wasn't listening. I couldn't. I was too distracted by the beckoning I felt as I watched Father go into the next room. "Would you excuse me?" I said, trying my best to get away as fast as I could.

"Of course," she said. She turned to one of the other guests and started up a similar conversation.

I think it was one of the hardest things I've had to do, dodging the guests of the banquet. There were so many of them. I often forgot how large our home was until such an event takes place. Then I am stunned into reality when I see how many obnoxious beings we can pack into one room or another.

I finally managed to exit the parlour, quickly ending any conversations that guests tried to begin. I walked through the kitchen, stumbling over the house elves. I nearly fell into the closet, but a strong arm stopped me.

"Clumsy," said Father. He appeared beside me, his face so unbelievably close to mine.

"I'm sorry," I said as he helped me right myself.

"Let's go," he whispered, tugging me by my puff sleeved arm. He led me out of the kitchen and down the hallway. We reached the inevitable fork and he took a sharp right. I had never been down that way of the house. It was always forbidden. That area belonged to my father and my father only. I don't even think my mother was allowed to cross that particular threshold.

As we hurried down the hallway, he seemed to be leading me faster and faster. Before I knew it, we had broken out into a run. I tried to catch a bit of the scenery but everything that passed was a blur of colour and motion.

Adrenaline coursed through me. I hadn't been this excited in years that I could remember. We came to the end of the corridor and made another right, down a second long hallway. Finally, we came to the end.

There were two large double doors in front of us. The handles were silver, taking the form of a snake squishing its body up before a strike. "My prince," Father exhaled, opening the doors from both handles. My lungs felt as if they were going to burst. I desperately tried to gain from fresh air but my heart wouldn't permit such a calm thing as breathing.

I followed him into the open room. He closed the doors behind me and embraced me from behind. "Breathe deeply," he whispered in my ear. He panted between words. "Exhale slowly."

I tried to do as he wished but my breath was lost from the shock of his warmth. There was no greater feeling than that of his arms around me, his hands on my stomach, his breath on my shoulder, his skin touching mine. I wanted more of it. I wanted it all.

"You take my breath away," I said softly.

He kissed my neck. "And you steal mine, my little prince." He turned me around and kissed my lips quickly, repeatedly. It was hurried and sweet as we struggled to catch our breath. He held me close to him, folding my body into his- a perfect fit. His hands wandered down over my body, squeezing my buttocks and searching between my legs for my already attentive manhood.

He took hold of it through my robes and seemed to purr in my ear.

"Father…" I lost my voice as he stroked it through the cloth. He lifted me and led me over to the king sized bed at the center of the room. It seemed like it was put there just for us. He set me down gently, as though I were a breakable doll and straddled me, holding my arms down to the bed. He kissed my lips again, taking his time with slow and delicate movements. His tongue slithered it's way into my wanting mouth and I accepted it gratefully, massaging the snake with my own. His body seemed to grow warmer as we kissed. I wanted him near me, closer to me, touching me all over. But then…

He pulled away and kissed my neck and took my earlobe softly in his teeth, making me tingle with the lightest nibbles. "You approve of this, prince?" he whispered to me.

"Always," I said. He sat on top of me and began to slide his fingers under the small sleeve of hidden buttons. They seemed to undo easier than they buttoned. Down and down he went until he parted the two fabrics, exposing my chest. He let his fingers make a trail down my ribcage, going smoothly over every bump of bone. He moved off of me and brought both of his hands up my thighs. He kissed my stomach.

"So fragile," he whispered. "My little prince."

I reached for him, but caught only hair. I tugged the long locks and he came back up to my face and kissed me. I ran my fingers though his perfumed hair, tangling it up at the sides. "If I am a prince, I will need a princess."

He kissed me again. "As you wish." He rolled over beside of me. I turned and fitted myself next to him.

"If you are to be mine, you need to look the part," I said, caressing his hair.

"Do what you like. I am yours to have." He smiled at me and kissed my forehead. "I think I have a few things…" he motioned to the vanity I hadn't noticed.

I got up and walked over to it, trying my best to ignore the ache between my legs. But somehow I thrived on dissatisfaction. I opened one of the drawers of the vanity and took out a cosmetic bag. I turned to the bed and quirked an eyebrow.

"You wanted a princess," he said, following me over. He wrapped me up in him once again and reached through my arms. "I think this colour is nice," he took out a rouge lipstick.

"It is," I replied, uncapping the stick. He took a seat in the chair facing the vanity and I leaned over him. I had watched my mother apply cosmetics long enough to know what went where and how. I chewed the corner of my mouth while applying the rouge to his lips. They took the colour perfectly. He tilted my chin towards him. "Not yet," I said, turning away. "Don't mar that pretty mouth yet."

I turned back to the vanity and rummaged through the cosmetics to find eye colour and mascara. I applied both of these with as tender care as I had the rouge. The colour I chose was a charcoal that made his metal eyes shine like little orbs. When I replaced the items, I took the brush from the vanity top and ran it through his hair until that mane was shining and soft.

Father never looked away from me, not even to see what masterpiece I had created. "Am I fit for a prince now?" he asked, gazing up at me with a curiousity I hadn't seen before.

"You make a perfect princess," I replied, placing my hand on his cheek. I sat, straddling his lap as he remained in the chair. He held me in place, gripping me by the thighs. I kissed his forehead, cheeks, lips. When I pulled away, I saw the rouge had smudged. I licked my lips and pressed a thumb to his mouth, smudging it further, out to his skin. This was too precious. I ran my hands through his hair again and tossed one side over the other, tangling it up in a mess. His closed his eyes, but when he opened them, they never left mine. "A princess should never outshine the prince," I told him, running my fingers along his eyebrows. The shadow dusted out as I pressed on it. He closed his eyes and let me smudge the eye colour as well. I trailed some of the charcoal to his cheeks.

He got up, still holding me, and we made it back to the bed. He lay down and let me have him the way I always wanted him. I unbuttoned the first few porcelain pieces of his shirt and took either side of the opening and pulled them apart from each other, causing the others to pop off and sing on the floor. I think some of them even broke.

I took a canister of shimmered powder from the cosmetic bag I carried over with us and dusted it over his chest. I rubbed it across his torso unevenly. Some of the dust flew up into the air, catching the curtain of the canopy. I dabbed a smidge of dust onto his nose and smiled. He was a mess. He was utterly a mess. I wanted him.

"Is the prince satisfied?" he asked, tracing my mouth with his colour stained hand.

"Almost," I answered. I felt his erection against my thigh. I bent down and unbuckled his dress pants and pulled them off. He sat up and grabbed both of my arms, pulling me in and kissing me. He tore the sleeves of my shirt and threw the pieces aside. I trembled at this act, but not because I was afraid. His strength excited me and I wanted more of it.

He pulled off the remainder of my incapacitated dress shirt. He ruffled my hair and kissed my neck and shoulders. He kissed my chest and licked my nipples, sending shivers down through my body. The ache of my manhood seemed almost unbearable as he teased me. He slid his hands down my dress pants. They were hot and ravenous as he grabbed at my private parts. He pulled down my remaining clothing effortlessly and pulled my down next to him. His hands found my erection and took hold of it. He slid his fingers up and down its length slowly a first. Then he encompassed it in his fist and began to pump away at it. I felt my hips buck as I came, quicker than I thought I would. My body went into spasms, as he never relinquished his hold on me. I let out an openmouthed moan and my back arched. I shivered when I finished. My pore seemed to be screaming at all the sensations they now were attuned to. The very air seemed to have spears.

I broke out in a sweat, all breath and sensibilities lost. I rolled over to him and kissed him, lightly biting his bottom lip. "Does the princess get no pleasure?" he whispered. I kissed his neck and inhaled his scent. His chest felt grainy as I groped at him. I used too much powder.

I found my way down to his own erection and kissed it. I heard him suck in his breath quickly and I glanced at him. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed. I kissed it on all sides and squeezed his inner thighs lightly. I felt him quiver. This was too much. I felt myself growing hard again. I took his length into my mouth and suckled it, swirling my tongue in it's tip, savouring every exhale of him as he squirmed under me. My princess. I chanced another glance at him and our eyes connected. A tremour went through me. I had never seen such fierceness in his eyes before. He looked hungry. "Don't look away," he said breathlessly. "I want to see my prince."

I kept his gaze and finished him off. He collapsed on the bed as I swallowed down his nectar. I crawled over to his side and snuggled up close to his frame. I felt his hand cup my head and he massaged my scalp. I nestled my fingers in the mass of wiry chest hair and watched the powder dust rise and fall. I listened to his heartbeat.

"You will always be my little prince," he said finally. I heard the words only faintly though. I had already begun to dose.

Fin.


End file.
